‘It made my hair turn white,’ Dimitris said.
‘It formed stalactites in my mouth,’ Vassia said.
‘Seriously now, guys, it cannot be that bad.’ Christos mildly defended his cooking, fork in hand.
‘Go on, have a bite,’ Vassia urged, smiling.
‘A big one,’ Dimitris added, reaching for water.
Christos bravely thrust his fork into the omelette. He cut a piece thick with triple cheese. He brought it to his mouth and chewed.
Dimitris and Vassia watched attentively for his reaction. They saw every twitch that touched his face. Finally, the chewing came to a grateful stop.
‘Well?’ they said, their voices united in amusement.
‘You were right, too much salt,’ Christos admitted. ‘Like a sea wave crushing against my tongue.’
His elbow brushed against the bottle of wine. It pirouetted awkwardly and shattered on the floor. Christos’ face fell, exactly like his spirit had. Laughing, Vassia got up and brought…